“Sascha used to have a higher tolerance,” Ivan murmured, tugging gently at Nix’s hair. “Domestic life has softened him even more.”
Nix leaned back until Ivan was forced to lift his head, catching Ivan’s eye. “And is that such a bad thing?”
“I don’t know anymore,” Ivan told him, his brow furrowing.
He looked so adorably disgruntled, although whether it was with his brother or himself or just life in general, it was hard to tell. No matter the answer, it was probably best for him to sleep it off. Nix escaped his grasp, jumping off the couch. “Come,” he said, holding out a hand. “Nap time for you as well.”
Ivan’s frown deepened. “I don’t a nap.”
“I’ll let you fondle me in your sleep.”
Ivan cocked his head, seeming to consider it. But he didn’t stand just yet. “Canyouget drunk?” he asked.
“Not from liquor, no,” Nix told him. “Sometimes when I feed on enough desire, it’s a little like how humans describe being drunk. The world gets…fuzzy. Soft around the edges.”
Ivan’s gaze heated. “Does my desire do that to you?”
“Mm, of course it does,” Nix purred. “You have so much of it, when it comes to me.”
Ivan didn’t refute the point, and Nix waggled his hand. “Come.”
He was able to coax Ivan up into the room with a mix of teasing and subtle manhandling. Nix didn’t strip him, though he was tempted. But Jace had brought Ivan spare clothes before their departure from Maine, and his selection was more casual than what Ivan was usually found in. It would do for a nap.
So Nix tucked Ivan under the covers as he was, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. “Was it nice to have bonding time with your brother?”
“Mm,” Ivan mumbled noncommittally, his eyes closing seemingly in spite of himself.
“See? He doesn’t hate you. Maybe Alexei will have a change of heart too.”
“One time, Alexei was off with another of my father’s men,” Ivan said, the words coming out quickly but without inflection, his eyes still shut. “My father had me call him, over and over. His man was reporting back to him, and every time Alexei didn’t pick up, Sergei was instructed to sock me in the stomach.”
A strange chill flushed through Nix—an uncharacteristic, icy rage. He had to swallow hard and gather himself before speaking, and even then his voice came out harsh. “What the fuck for?”
Ivan’s brow furrowed slightly, but his voice stayed toneless. “Something about the consequences of not being able to garner my brother’s total loyalty. He knew Alexei didn’t fear or respect me. He wanted me to know he knew it.”
“And Alexei— Did you tell him about it afterward? “
“No.”
Of course he hadn’t. Nix resisted the urge to throw something. “Why not?”
“It wouldn’t have changed the outcome, would it? And I thought it would be…better not to know.” Ivan opened one eye, peering at Nix through pale lashes. “My own mother didn’t want me. She was going to take my brothers, you know.”
Nix didn’t know much about a mother’s love, but he knew enough to know the lack of it could fuck a human up. “Maybe she knew your father wouldn’t give you up,” he soothed. “You were his heir.”
“He never even liked me.” Ivan shook his head, shutting his eye again. “There’s something…rotten inside me.” He lifted a hand to his chest, where his heart was. “Something intolerable.”
Unlovable, he meant. “I carry a piece of your soul in my chest,” Nix told him firmly. “Your very essence. And there’s nothing rotten in there. Bitter in places, perhaps. Broken. But not rotten.”
Ivan let out a choked sound, his features tightening. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?”
“It…hurts.”
This human. Nix brushed his fingers against Ivan’s cheek. “You’re much too vulnerable when you’re drunk, darling. You should consider becoming a teetotaler.”
Ivan leaned his head into Nix’s touch. “I think you like me vulnerable.”
